I’m stunned. It sounds like I’m crazy. “What do you mean?”
“Well, like I said, at first you were grateful to Sonia for carrying Valentina for you, but then you started to hate her for it.”
“Did she stay in touch after the birth?”
He clears his throat. “No. She was gone for good.”
“So what happened next?”
“You were fine for a little while.” His face darkens. “But then you started hearing voices.”
I take a big gulp of wine now. I feel as though I’m going to be sick. “Voices?”
“Telling you that you should hurt Valentina. Very similar to postpartum psychosis.”
This doesn’t make any sense to me. “But if I wasn’t pregnant, how could I have that?”
He shrugs. “Some women lactate even though they’re not pregnant. The brain is a very powerful organ.”
I take a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Go on.”
He gets up and begins to pace. “We were worried for Valentina’s safety, and yours too of course. We tried all kinds of medications, and they helped at first, but the voices always came back. The day you tried to kill yourself, though, you actually seemed better.” He stands in front of the fireplace, his hand on the mantel, and shakes his head. “I know now that it was because you had made up your mind to do it, and that gave you peace. I left in the morning, and when I got halfway to the hospital, I realized I’d left my cell phone at home. I turned around and drove back. That’s when I found you in the tub. You’d already lost so much blood. If I’d been five minutes later . . .”
I lean back and close my eyes, trying to absorb what he’s told me. It’s a terrifying story about a woman on the edge. I don’t want it to be me, but a deep sense of dread makes me fear that the woman he’s talking about is me.
“Where is Sonia?”
The pain in his eyes is immediate. “Don’t ask me that, Cassandra. It’s better if you don’t remember.”
“But—” I begin, and then stop. Is Sonia the woman I’ve been seeing in my nightmares? The one whose face is half gone? Suddenly I can’t get a deep breath. I stand, trying to get the air into my lungs.
“What about the next time? When I drove into the wall?”
He sighs loudly. “You’d been doing much better, but then you stopped taking your medicine. That happens often with patients. You feel good, so you don’t think you need it. It was the summertime, and Valentina was three. You started having delusions again, voices telling you to do bad things. You left Valentina alone in the house and drove your car into the brick wall of the fitness center.” He swallows. “But then you got better. You took your medicine. I thought everything was going okay. Then you disappeared.”
Julian rises and pulls me to my feet, encircling me in his arms. I begin to cry, and soon I’m racked with sobs. He holds me tightly, murmuring that everything will be all right, until finally I am spent. The elation that I felt just a few days ago in finding him again is replaced with a feeling of desolation and dread so potent that I feel I will drown. Who is Cassandra, and what secrets is she keeping?
Whatever they are, something tells me that they have the power to destroy me.
??43??
Blythe
Blythe finished addressing the last of her Christmas cards, put her pen down, and took a sip of chamomile tea. Cold. She set the mug back on the kitchen table and spun it around as she looked at the depiction of the sculpture Aeneas, Anchises, and Ascanius that decorated it. Addison had given it to Blythe for her birthday last summer, knowing how much she loved the works of Bernini. It was a thoughtful gift. She sighed inwardly, thinking of Addison. Recently she’d said she needed to cut off contact with all of them. Hailey had been hurt, but understood. Gabriel, however, had been frantic with worry, convinced that Addison was in danger somehow, and there was nothing Blythe or Ted could say to convince him otherwise.
“Hey, Mom,” Hailey said as she entered the kitchen, giving Blythe a hug.
“Hi, sweetheart. So glad you’re here. Can I make you some lunch?”
“No. Can’t stay long. I have to get back to work.”
“How about a cup of tea then?”
“Yes, perfect.”
Blythe put the kettle on, retrieved her own mug from the table, and grabbed another cup from the cabinet.
“Here you go,” she said once the kettle boiled, and set the steaming mugs on the table before taking a seat herself.